I was born in Maryland, in 1812, and was slave to a Mrs. Wagar. She
had four sons and two daughters. The sons were all farmers, owning
large tracts of land; which were well stocked with slaves, and other
animal property!
When her youngest son, James H., was about forty or forty-five years
of age, he owned the plantation upon which he and his mother lived,
and on which I was born. On this plantation were about two hundred
slaves, young and old; of which fifty belonged to him, and the
remainder to his mother; but all were in his charge.
Mr. J. H. W. had two children, John and Elizabeth. His wife died
before I could remember, leaving the children under the supervision
of the Grandmother. Elizabeth was about thirteen, and John ten years
of age.
My parents had seven children, five sons and two daughters. My father
and mother were field hands. My younger sister was house girl and
ladies’ maid, while the elder was given to one of the sons. The rest
of us were too small to work, the eldest being only eleven years old.
The first act of slavery which I recorded in my memory, was the sale
of my elder sister, who belonged to Henry Wagar, brother to J. H.,
and who lived three miles from our plantation. My mother heard of the
sale, which was on Saturday, and on Sunday took us with her to see
our beloved sister, who was then in the yard with the trader’s drove,
preparatory to being removed far south, on the Monday following.
After travelling six miles, we arrived at our place of destination.
Mother, approaching the door of the trader’s house, fell upon her
knees, in tears begging to be permitted to see her imprisoned
daughter, who was soon to be dragged away from her embrace, probably
to be seen no more in the flesh. It was not his custom to admit
slaves into his yard to see their friends; but at this time, his
heart seemed to be moved with compassion, for he opened the door,
telling us to go in, which we did.
Here, the first thing that saluted my ears, was the rattling of the
chains upon the limbs of the poor victims. It seemed to me to be a
hell upon earth, emblematical of that dreadful dungeon where the
wicked are kept, until the day of God’s retribution, and where their
torment ascends up forever and ever.
As soon as my sister saw our mother, she ran to her and fell upon her
neck, but was unable to speak a word. There was a scene which angels
witnessed; there were tears which, I believe, were bottled and placed
in God’s depository, there to be reserved until the day when He shall
pour His wrath upon this guilty nation.
The trader, becoming uneasy at this exciting scene, and fearing the
rest of the drove would become dissatisfied with their situations,
permitted sister to leave the yard for a few moments, to keep
mother’s company. He did not watch her, as I thought he would
have done, but permitted her to go about with mother, and even to
accompany us part of our way towards home. He ordered dinner for us,
but not one of us could eat one mouthful. I thought my heart would
break, as the time drew near for our departure. I dreaded the time
when I should bid farewell to my beloved sister, never more to see
her face, never more to meet her in the paternal circle, never more
to hear her fervent prayer to the throne of God.
I watched the sun, as it seemed to descend behind the western hills;
but this did not stop its progress. The time soon arrived when we
must go. When mother was about to bid farewell to my sister, and
reached out her hand to grasp hers, she burst into a flood of tears,
exclaiming aloud. “Lord, have mercy upon me!”
The trader, seeing such parental affection, as he stood by, hung down
his head and wiped the tears from his eyes; and to relieve himself
from a scene so affecting, he said, “Mary, you can go some way with
your mother, and return soon.”
Turning to mother, he said, “old woman, I will do the best I can for
your daughter; I will sell her to a good master.”
We then left the house. After going with us two miles, sister Mary,
in obedience to orders and her promise, could go no farther, and she
said, “Mother, I suppose I must go back.”
Here another heart-rending scene took place. I well remember her
parting words, “Mother,” she said, “don’t grieve, for though we are
separated in body, our separation is only for a season, and if we are
faithful we shall meet again where partings are no more. Mother, will
you try to meet me?”
We all promised to do so. We then parted, and have never heard
directly from her since. She was, as we afterwards understood, taken
to Alabama, and sold at public auction. But, if I am faithful, I
shall see her again.
Hark and hear the captive pleading,
Listen to her plaintive cry,
While in floods her tears are falling;
Must I, in my bondage die?
When I dwelt in my own country,
With my children by my side,
Cruel white men coming on me,
Dragg’d me o’er the deep so wide.
Oft I think of my sweet children,
And my dear companion too;
If on earth I no more see them,
And have bid a last adieu,
I must try to live so faithful
To that God who rules above,
That I may obtain His favor,
And may dwell with Him in love.
I must wait until that moment,
When the trump of God shall sound;
Calling nations all together,
Then to hear their final doom!
There I’ll see my dear companion,
Whom long since I bade adieu;
There I’ll see my smiling children,
And my blessed Jesus, too!
Then let cares, like a wild deluge,
Roll across this mortal frame;
Death will soon burst off my fetters,
Soon ’twill break the tyrant’s chain;
Then I’ll pass from grace to glory,
Then I’ll sing my suffering o’er;
For then grief, and pain, and sorrow,
Shall be felt and known no more.